


passing sounds and given a name

by engistial



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, POV Derek Hale, POV First Person, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:13:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engistial/pseuds/engistial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason Derek doesn't say much when he's around Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	passing sounds and given a name

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I'm sorry. 
> 
> Secondly, not sure if this really belongs under the explicit rating, I really don't want to give false hope for the amount of detail included.
> 
> Thirdly, it's all in Derek's head, I don't know if that's something that needs tagging.
> 
> Lastly, completely unbeta'd and just a brief exercise in less-than-safe-for-work subjects.
> 
> title from the song "Clavicles" by I am Oak, which was a large part of the background music while I wrote this.

Your eyes mute me, stutter my tongue into stillness. My mind travels the paths our bodies could take as my eyes map the expanse of your skin. I want to drop the distance between us, trace the moles across your jaw with my nose and kiss the tendon of your neck, push finger tips into the skin of your waist, find the jut of hip and follow the bone down to groove to inner thigh. I want to lick the warm skin under your jaw, worry the taunt flesh with my teeth, gentle gentle then sharp, sooth the pain with a kiss. Fingers massage, sweep the path of where ass meets leg and groin meets thigh, deep presses that show intent. I want to kiss your mouth with tightly restrained passion, the beast that devours roaring under my skin. Gasp against the hidden kiss against your lips and finally, finally take your length into my hand, feeling the weight and exploring the contours of veins and ridge, gather the moisture at the tip with my thumb and massage it into the head before giving an experimental stroke, firm, a little too tight, a little too dry. I’d ask you, voice rough, to lick my hand, get it nice and wet, before I’d wrap it around you, once more, strokes lazy, travelling from base to tip and back with steady purpose. I can imagine your gasp, the timber of your voice, can imagine your long, elegant fingered hands gripping my shoulder, my forearm as I bring you off. I can imagine the way you’d kiss me, no restraint, no elegance, just getting your feelings everywhere. I’d try and lie to myself, that it made me uncomfortable, when really, I know it’s something I need, any discomfort the amount of restraint I’d need to maintain any distance when all I want is to consume you whole, to let you consume me. I can even imagine the sound and smell, the hot, slick weight of your cum on my fist as I milked you through your completion. 

So, I’d ask for your forgiveness for my silence but, really, truly, it’s my last defense.


End file.
